


Goddammit

by peppermintpeony (coloringwitheyeliner)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cussing, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloringwitheyeliner/pseuds/peppermintpeony
Summary: Dave’s down with the sickness yall





	1. Chapter 1

You wake up and immediately cought up little blue petals, rising from deep within your throat, choking you and making you gag. 

Its fucking annoying. 

You could deal with a lot. You spent most of your youth dodging swords and plush ass, and for the longest time you really believed you could quickstep your way through any obstacle life threw at you. 

That is, until you met John for the first time. He’d come to pick you up from the airport with his dad, and nothing could have prepared you for how blue his eyes were, how his hair fell, his large goofy teeth.

Nothing, especially, could have prepared you for his voice. It was the best goddamn music you’d ever heard. Five years staring at text on a screen when you could have been hearing his voice this whole time? What kind of bullshit is that? 

And then he hugged you, and that brought on a whole new wave of appreciation. His arms were warm, and he smelled like cake and fruity candy, and it was so sweet and welcoming that you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Your bro isn’t exactly the best guardian to you, and the sudden onslaught of unconditional love is more  than you expected.

You were in Washington a week and thought  _‘Well, if I can just get through this visit, I’ll be fine.’_

PSYCH! That’s when your bro decided to try to do something nice for you for once. In fact, it was incredibly nice. He decided to move you both into an apartment in Washington, only 10 minutes from your cousin Rose’s house, and 15 from John’s. 

So that’s where you are now. Totally in love with your best friend. You know its love, or you wouldn’t be spitting blue petals out into your hand. Gross. 

You push your blankets off, but feel no urgency to get up. At this rate, you’ll be late to school, but you just don’t have it in you to care. What’s the fucking point of getting up if you’re just gonna die from some dumbass flower disease?

Unfortunately, bro doesn’t know about said dumbass disease, and even if he did, it probably wouldn’t stop him from stomping in your room and making you get up by force. Which you absolutely do not want, so you swing your legs over the side of the bed, and sluggishly move to get dressed. 

You barely make it to the bus stop in time, one shoe still untied and a piece of toast hanging out of your mouth. You could  _feel_ bro smirking at you when you left through the door like that. You could’ve punched him. 

When you get on the bus, Rose is there in her usual spot, and you take a seat beside her. 

She gives you a quizzical look, and asks “Are you not sitting with John today?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, thought I’d treat you to a little Stri-Time. A cousin bonding session. A whole fuckin bus ride of just you and me, Rosie, preppin to fight any noobs that try to challenge us.”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, and you know she’s thinking  _‘That’s an absolute load of shit,’_ but you’re thankful that instead, she says “If you so wish, cousin of mine.”

”Hell yeah,” you respond, but then fall silent. You honestly hadn’t prepared any topics of conversation and you KNOW Rose is gonna find that suspicious but like what the fuck do you look like? Some kind of fuckin? Conversation machine? A topic generator? No. You don’t. 

“Well,” Rose says, and you try not to notice how her eyes are burning holes into your brain. “I’ve been reading lately-”

”Big shocker there,” you interject. 

“No one asked, Strider,” she shoots a quick glare at you, before her features relax again. “Anyway, I’ve been reading lately about different diseases that doctors still haven’t really figured out yet, and there’s this one in particular that’s caught my attention.” 

“Oh rad, what is it?” you ask, always up for gross disease talk. You love gross things. 

“It’s called Hanahaki Disease, and-“ Rose’s sentence is cut off as the bus lurches to a stop, brakes screeching, and you choke on your own spit, sending you spiraling into a coughing fit that isn’t directly related to the flowers growing inside of you for once. 

Once the bus starts moving again, you look up to see a pair of blue eyes oggling you from the seat in front of you. Guess that was John’s stop. 

“Are you okay?” Rose asks. If she’s really concerned, you can’t tell, which is fine. She has a habit of sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong and you’re already all up in your feelings without her.

“Obviously not, Rose!!!” John pouts. “He’s not sitting with me!”

Rose smirks at him. “He said he wanted some family bonding time.”

“Blehhh,” John groans. “I wanted to show him something!”

“Oh? And you can’t share it with the class?”

Rose’s smirk turns into a grin as John puffs up at her. “No!!! I can’t!” 

“What, John, did you grow your first chin hair and you want to show it off?” You joke. 

His face turns red as he shakes his head furiously at you. “I wanted to show you something weird!” 

“Well, sorry, Egbert, but I guess you’ll have to wait to show me on the way home.” 


	2. Chapter 2

You spend the whole day dreading the bus ride home, not looking forward to sitting with John at all. The thought of facing him makes your stomach churn. Until now you had been thinking your feelings were just a crush, that you would get over them, but the petals change everything. Suddenly everything is a lot more real. 

You decide you should maybe talk to someone about this. 

All of the people you could talk to run through your head. Terezi? Karkat? Jade? Rose? 

....Bro?

No. No one feels right. While all of your friends would be supportive, you just can’t find it in yourself to bother anyone with it. If nothing else, its your own cowardice causing your pain, and admitting that to someone is almost more embarrassing than your actual situation. 

But eventually, the day ends, and you find yourself climbing up the steps onto the bus, and John is waving you down. No more avoiding.  
You plop down in the seat beside him, and he can barely hold in whatever he wants to tell you.

“You wanted to show me something weird?” you prompt him, and he shakes his head in response. 

“After the bus gets going, I don’t want people walking by us,” he says, and all you can think about is how fuckin sketchy that sounds, but you ignore it. Obviously he’s worked up about whatever he’s getting ready to show you. 

When the bus lurches forward, you feel John turn towards you. You turn to look at him, and in his hand is a single petal, red before turning to white, and then black at the end, where it would be attached to the rest of a flower. 

“I’ve been coughing these petals up for weeks,” he says, scrunching up his nose. “I don’t know what it means.”

You feel your heart drop, and something bustling in your chest. You ignore it. 

“Oh dude,” you say, playing it cool. “Rose brought that up this morning.” You pretend like you’re unfamiliar with the affliction, that you just know what Rose told you, even though that’s not true at all. You tell him he should talk to her about it. 

He seems unsure, but eventually nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says, after a few seconds riding in silence. “I’ll ask her.” 

You think he might sound disappointed, but the thought gets pushed back by a different one. Who are his flowers for? 

John gets up and moves seats, ignoring the bus driver yelling at him to not get up while the bus is moving, and trades seats with Jade, who sits beside you cheerily. You spend the rest of the bus ride talking with her idly. 

You tell her you’re glad tomorrow’s Friday.


	3. Chapter 3

When you finally get home, you rush to your room and collapse on your bed. You push your face into your pillows, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if you push down hard enough, you won’t be able to feel or think anything.

It doesn’t work, though, and so you settle with lying on your back and slip your headphones on. You stare at the ceiling, picking out little shapes in the paint, and hope your music will drown out any thoughts you could or would be having.

But even with your mind distracted, you can still feel it. You can feel the rustling in your lungs, the plants shaking and brushing against each other with each breath. Everything you do irritates them, a constant reminder of your emotions.

A week goes by. A month. A year. You pretend like things are normal around John, and he never mentions his flowers again.

Rose found out about yours the day after you got sick. She had confronted you and forced it out of you.

Now it was just something you contemplated quietly, watching horror movies on the floor in your room.

“John had a petal too, that day,” you say, nonchalantly. Rose understands.

“Yeah,” she replies with lips like licorice. “He doesn’t know who they’re for.”

You scoff at that. “How could he not know? How do you get sick and not know how?”

“Maybe he loved whoever they are from the second he met them,” she says.

You feel a pang in your heart.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Rose speaks again.

“You know,” she says, quiet. “Hanahaki is terminal.”

“And what do you expect me to do about that?” you sneer.

“You could get the surgery,” she whispers.

“That doesn’t really solve anything,” you sigh. “Besides, if he’s as good as dead to me, then I might as well just be dead.”

Rose doesn't say anything.

“Are you sleeping over,” you change the topic, your question sounding more like a statement. It’s not like you don’t know her answer, anyway.

“Yeah,” she stands and stretches, her back popping. “I’m gonna change into pajamas and take my makeup off.”

“Cool,” you nod. “I’m gonna shower.”

When you get in, you stand, towards the water, the heat of it stinging your skin. You take in a deep breath, intending to sigh, but instead you irritate the flowers in your lungs and you’re launched into a coughing fit, so forceful that it causes you to collapse and empty the contents of your stomach. Your nose and throat burn, petals and stomach acid and your half digested food mixing with the water in your hands and on the bottom of the tub.

You curse under your breath, but the words strangle you and burn your throat.

You notice the first full flower, catching it right before it can be pushed down the drain.

You show it to Rose when you get out. Worry sketches itself against her face, only for a brief second, before she hides it away again.

“I know what kind of flower this is,” she says.

“Are you going to share with the class? Because the class is on the edge of it’s fuckin seat. The kids’ parents filled their lunch boxes with little debbies, and now their bouncin’ off the goddamn walls, sugared up and ready to learn,” you ramble. You know you sound like an asshole, but you can’t help it. It’s a nervous habit.

Rose barely manages not to roll her eyes, and you’re thankful that your cousin puts up with all the shit you put her through. “It’s a forget-me-not.”

You laugh bitterly. “Well,” you brush your fingers through your hair. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t plan to.”

Rose punches your arm with a fist as soft as the trace of a smile on her face. “You’re so dramatic.”

“My life _is_ a drama, Rose. It’s _Days of Our Lives_ up in here.”

“Have you ever even seen that show?” she asks, skeptical and amused.

“Absolutely not,” you smile at her, genuine.Even with the flowers worsening in your lungs, you’re grateful for your time with Rose.

Another year goes by and graduation rolls around. In the preparations leading up, you forget to worry about the flowers. They don’t stop being a problem, but you’re too busy picking up an outfit, ordering your robe and diploma, making sure your bro knows when to be there, and taking pictures.

You spend the days with Rose and Jade and John, the four of you planning out your futures, nervously anticipating whatever comes next. None of you have colleges picked out, and eventually you all decide to wait a year, and do everything you can together in the mean time.

When graduation night finally comes, you ride there with your friends, Jade and Rose in the front, you and John in the back, your knees occasionally knocking together.

Graduation goes smoothly. Your brother brought air horns despite the explicit “NO AIRHORNS ALLOWED” notice everyone’s guardians received weeks in advance, and you’re impressed and filled with pride when he manages to make them sound exactly like the airhorn sound clip.

After the ceremony, the four of you sleepover at John’s house for movie night like you would any other day of the year, except this one is special. You all put up with each other’s shitty movie picks, and you don’t even tease John when he stands up to dramatically sing along with Trisha Yearwood at the end of Con Air.

Jade is the first to fall asleep, and then Rose, leaving you and John awake, sitting on the floor beside each other in the dark, the dim light of the tv. You look over at him and suddenly you wonder how you could ever ignore the flowers inside of you.

But then you feel something else. You feel brave.

You whisper John’s name, and he turns towards you expectantly.

You take in his face, his blue eyes framed by bulky glasses and dark messy hair, the slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks, the curve of his lips.

You think about kissing him.

“I’ll be right back,” he excuses himself suddenly. You feel disappointed.

After ten minutes pass, you begin to worry. After 15, you decide to go find him.

You check the bathroom, but he isn’t there. You begin to panic when you check his room and he isn’t there, either- until you notice that his window is open.

You climb through it and out onto the roof, and sure enough, there’s John, sitting with his arms resting on his knees, red anemones on either side of him.

You approach him, the night balmy against your skin, a sure sign of summer quickly approaching. He smiles weakly at you and you smile back, settling down next to him.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” you reply.

The two of you sit silently, starring at the stars. Half an hour passes before either of you say anything else, the silence filled only by the occasional coughing fit.

“I’m sick,” John finally sighs, never taking his eyes off of the stars.

“Truly,” you say. “Only a sick person would hate cake with the same reverence you do.”

He punches your arm, not unlike Rose did a year ago. It’s familiar and friendly and feels like home.

“That’s not what I meant!” he laughs, but a coughing fit sobers him back into reality.

“I mean, these flowers. I’m in love with someone. And I guess they don’t love me back?” he frowns, and you can tell without looking that his eyes are beginning to well up with tears. “I- I don’t even know who they are. It’s such bullshit.”

You smile ruefully at your hands folded in your lap. “If it makes you feel any better,” you turn to look at him. “I’m sick too.”

He turns to you abruptly, his eyes widening. “What?”

“I’m sick too,” you repeat. He doesn’t look like he believes you, until you unfold your hands and reveal the little blue flowers you’ve coughed up since coming outside.

He takes one of them from you gently. If the fact that it’s currently covered in your spit bothers him, he doesn’t show it.  

Another 15 minutes pass, silent again, and then John breaks it once more.

“Do you at least know who it is you’re in love with?”

“Yeah,” you say, turning to face away from him. “You.”

“I- what?”

You turn to look at him. “You, John. I’m in love with you, like a teenage girl thinks she’s in love with her boyfriend that she says is the Romeo to her Juliet before they break up over something stupid. Like Scooby Doo loves to eat all that fuckin food. Like Nic Cage loves the Declaration of Independence, you know? I’m gonna steal you from a museum, John, and then I’m gonna rub lemon juice on y-“

Your ramble is cut off as John wraps his arms around your neck, his sudden weight pushing you down and forcing all of the air to leave your body.

“Yo, Egbert, not to complain about this awesome hug from my best bro, but-“ you start, but then you’re cut off again.

This time, from his lips meeting yours.

You freeze before relaxing into the kiss, and you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair. Your lips buzz, and suddenly the air outside feels more hot than comfortably warm.

You break away, and he rolls off of you without leaving your arms. You turn your head once more to face him, and the second your eyes meet, you both break out into a laughing fit, all of the stress and frustration from the past two years leaving you all at once.

Then John tells you about the stars like he always does, and you make dumb jokes about them like you always do. He tells you your jokes are dumb, as always, and, as always, you tell him that he just doesn’t have any taste.

You fall asleep on his chest, the rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep as he goes on about some bullshit constellation that you're pretty sure was just made up for one of his dumb movies.

You wake up a few hours later, John asleep beside you. You sit up, noticing that Rose and Jade have joined you on your opposite side, speaking quietly. You wave at them, catching Jade’s attention, and she smiles a hundred watt smile. Seriously, what’s with the Harley-Egbert family that makes their smiles so contagious?

“We went to look for you guys and couldn’t find you! So we decided we should come out to see our first sunrise as high school graduates, and here you were!” she tells you, and you agree that watching the sun rise is an excellent idea.

“How much longer before sunrise?” you ask.

“About half an hour,” Rose answers.

You wake up John, and explain the plan to him. This time, he’s the one to smile brightly. Who even needs the sun with these two around?

The four of you sit expectantly, shoulder to shoulder, as slowly, bright rays peak over the horizon, turning the sky red, and then slowly, blue.

When the sun has finally risen, John is the first to stand. “I’m gonna go make us breakfast!” he says, climbing down and back through his window.

Jade is the next to stand, following close behind.

You hang back, sitting with Rose on the roof, the both of you taking in the fresh morning sky.

“Everything okay?” she asks knowingly.

“Never better,” you smile back.


End file.
